Like Vapour
by Envy Etiquette
Summary: After the war, Hermione gave it all up, and returned to the muggle world. A car accident left her orphaned and her lack of education left her unemployable. Enter Lucius Malfoy, a man she had hoped to never see again, but has the war changed things? Somewhat AU.
1. Chapter 1 -- Bottom

Another day, another dollar quite literally. Hermione was sitting before a mirror backstage feeling the low thud of bass blasting in the club. Rouge coloured lips and black lined eyes reflected back at her as she attempted to settle her thoughts. She was barely twenty-two and had experienced enough tragedy for someone more than twice her age. After the Second Wizarding War, Hermione had lost too much to remain a part of magical Britain. Everyone from Daily Prophet reporters to old Hogwarts friends to complete strangers were desperate for every detail that dredged up all the memories she wished so desperately to forget. She empathized with Harry more completely than she ever had previously; never had she experienced something so emotionally draining. Several months following Voldemort's downfall, she retreated to muggle London in an attempt to forget everything, forfeiting the relationships with every witch and wizard she had ever known. She always planned to return one day, but she never really considered how much time away she would need.

Less than a year after her disappearance from the wizarding world, both of her parents were killed when another car hit theirs head on. The once cautious witch quickly burned through her parents' savings trying to drown her grief in alcohol and Norco. When she tried to return to the real world, she was met with the harsh reality of no muggle education or marketable skills, though her aversion to the wizarding world remained poignant. Her need to make ends meet and assuage her new found addiction led her to her current occupation of the past year. She had considered using magic to forge the necessary documents for a reputable job, but the legal repercussions were harsh if the Ministry of Magic ever got wind of it.

She sighed at her reflection, deciding to add a bit more eyeshadow around her false eyelashes. She adjusted her red bikini-like top and stood on black platform heels that added five inches to her height. On her way to the stage, she took a few calming breaths. No matter how many times she danced, she never quite got used to being topless in front of strangers, but the money was better than anything else she was likely to get.

It was just after midnight by the time she took the stage. Saturday nights were their busiest of the week and this night was no exception. She flawlessly went through rehearsed movements, her mind barely registering the 80s metal playing in the background, something about pouring sugar on someone.

Then something caught her eye. She did a double take, refusing to believe what she thought she had seen. When she looked back, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual rowdy boys from the university out for a good time. She sensually rolled her hips in front of them, slowing down to allow them to deposit bills in her garter and the strings tied at her hips.

Following her set on stage, she resumed flirting with the patrons on the floor, offering lap dances and fetching the occasional drink.

"Mia!" Hermione turned round to the bartender who had called for her. Though not terribly creative or especially exotic, Mia was the name Hermione donned while at her job and most of the patrons seemed to believe it was her real name, which was important in her line of work. She approached the bar and offered a small smile to the petite raven-haired girl.

"Hey Rhea, what's up?"

"The gentleman over at table eight ordered a bourbon, neat, and was very adamant that you bring it. Looks like a big spender." Rhea winked and passed Hermione a drink tray. Balancing the circular tray upon her shoulder, Hermione walked over to a small table where one man sat alone. He was certainly not one of the typical college clientèle - he had a quiet regality that permeated the air around him as she approached. When one of the lights moved to land on his features, she damn near dropped his drink.

"Fancy seeing you here, Miss Granger," The blond man before her drawled. "I presume that's my bourbon you're carelessly about to spill?"

"What are you doing here?" Hermione breathed just loud enough to be heard, setting both his drink and the tray upon the table and taking a cautionary step back.

"I was enjoying a stiff drink and scantily clad women, though I thought that rather obvious, Miss Granger. Imagine my surprise to find you...working, if that's what you call it."

"This is muggle London," She whispered back with increased urgency. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Watching you, but you would be much more intriguing if you were still dancing instead of barraging me with mundane questions." Hermione suddenly caught the eye of her boss staring at her from the bar. She had recently been reprimanded for her lack of "friendliness" towards the guests and knew he was studying her interactions now. She let out a deep breath before replying.

"Nothing's free, not even me, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius withdrew his wallet from the breast pocket of an especially expensive looking muggle blazer and extracted two fifty pound notes. He placed them on the table, eyeing the muggleborn with a barely there smirk. "I assume you have private rooms in this establishment?"

Hermione said nothing, but begrudgingly took the bills and strode toward the back of the club. Lucius grabbed his tumbler of amber liquid and followed close behind. He studied the witch as he trailed her; she was a bit slimmer than he recalled and had a hardness in her eyes and the set of her jaw that wasn't there years before. Down a hallway perpendicular to the bar, Lucius found himself in a darkly lit room with scarlet walls and black furniture. The same music played, but seemed to dull into a lulling rhythm once Hermione shut the door. When she faced him, a scowl was pasted on her features.

"Why are you here?" She demanded. "I haven't spoken to a wizard in over three years."

"Well, I've paid for your time, I'd like to see you work," Lucius drawled then took a sip of his liquor. He remained standing, staring down at the witch who was still shorter than him despite her stripper shoes. "Before you refuse, consider that I can be a very persuasive man, even in muggle London, which may not be in your best interest should I have to discuss your work performance with your superior." Lucius then cast a wandless cleansing charm on the furniture before taking a seat and depositing his drink on the small table next to the sofa. He eyed her expectantly.

Hermione said nothing and approached the older man. Slowly, her hips began to sway to the tacky pop anthem now playing, her hands lightly grazing over her body. He finished off his bourbon before offering commentary.

"I feel rather certain this kind of service doesn't garner much in the way of tips." He again withdrew a fifty pound note, this time leaning forward to place it in the string tied along her hips. "A real performance now if you feel so inclined, I don't care to be any more lenient with my money at the moment."

Hermione stayed mute, but came closer to the Malfoy. Her palms brushed from his chest down to his thighs, all the while her hips maintaining a mesmerising rhythm. She then turned from him, running a hand through her wavy hair as she crouched before him, then rose slowly to display her assets. Once she rose and turned back around, she slowly untied her top, letting it flutter to the floor, never stopping her body's sway to the beat. She sensually made her way onto the man's lap, bringing his hands up to cup her breasts, the coldness never leaving her brown eyes. Lucius could feel his body stirring in response, but merely let his fingers linger where the witch guided them. Eventually, they found themselves resting on the witch's firm arse as she straddled him, her own hands running along her chest.

"What will it take to get you in my bed this evening?" Lucius inquired with a detached quality. He felt a slight recoil before her reply.

"I'm a stripper, not a hooker, Malfoy," Hermione said sharply.

"Nothing comes cheap, but everything has a price, Miss Granger," He said with hands now resting on her hips. "I'm simply asking you to name yours."

"I do believe you're a married man, that makes your proposition particularly inappropriate."

"If you still resided in the wizarding world, you'd be well aware of my very public divorce and all it entailed."

"I'm sure you won't be on the market long then, Malfoy. There are plenty of gold-digging sycophants waiting to assuage your ego."

"And yet I've gone through the difficulty that was locating you. That must inspire some curiosity."

"Yes, because in my experience nothing good follows a Malfoy making an appearance."

"It seems puzzling that you would let my hands rest where they are if you weren't interested." As if to accentuate his point, the blond ran his hands from her hips over her thighs.

"I simply believe in giving a customer what he's paid for." Hermione abruptly rose from Lucius' lap. "Time's up," she added.

"I seriously doubt that," He replied. "But it's just as well; however, you should consider my offer. I'm sure there are accommodations that you'd find rather pleasing in my manor should you agree."

"Oh, less of a prostitute and more of a concubine. Well, isn't that lovely?" Lucius raised an eyebrow, but did not voice his thoughts. "Tell me, why me? Why go through the bother?"

"Half the intrigue was actually locating you, you are rather difficult to find, but to return the leading lady of the golden trio back to magical Britain and have her be on my arm...well, that's a goal worthy of accomplishment."

"But I'm a mudblood, why would you even wish that?"

"True though it may be, your status in the wizarding world nearly negates such poor provenance. Let's just say that I'm diversifying."

"Never before have I met a man with such an articulate way of being an arse."

"I would not refute that," He replied, a sardonic smile playing at his lips. "Good evening, Miss Granger."

Lucius Malfoy had gone by the time the witch returned to her senses. She was overwhelmed by the presence of a wizard, particularly that wizard. Slowly she made her way out of the room back to the main club where she found Rhea tending the bar alone.

"Chris was watching you with that client," She began as she opened two beers for a twenty-something waiting at the bar. "I reckon he's got it out for you." Hermione sighed in reply.

"Tell me something I don't know, yeah?" Rhea did not respond, instead shouting last call while Hermione cleared the bar of empty glasses and rubbish cocktail napkins.

Ten to three the pair were heading towards the brunette's car. Hermione had moved in with Rhea shortly after getting her job, saving her from purchasing her own vehicle. They were halfway home before Rhea broached the topic Hermione was expecting.

"So who is he?" She asked without taking her eyes off the road. "And don't act like you don't know."

"I..." Hermione was unsure what to say to her flatmate. The minion of a dark lord who witnessed her torture at the hands of his sister-in-law didn't seem proper, so instead she replied, "We share a bit of history." Rhea's eyes briefly flashed to her.

"What kind of history? I'll be honest, he doesn't seem like boyfriend material."

"He wasn't...he's not. He's the father of a boy from my year back in school. To put it lightly, we didn't get on very well." Rhea again eyed her from the steering wheel.

"I see. A private dance from your son's schoolmate. Interesting taste."

"That's certainly putting it lightly."

Rhea seemed satisfied with her answers, leaving her to her thoughts once they arrived at the flat. Back in her room, Hermione quickly reached for her narcotics, sighing upon the realization she only had three left. She took them all and any residual emotions dug up by Malfoy were quickly dissipated. As she fell into bed, she felt certain the only redeeming quality of the wizard was he had paid her both generously and in muggle currency.

Hermione's life returned very much back to normal the next day, or at least what was normal for her these days. She breezed through her week in a numbed trance between her pills and wine and haze of her clients at the club, behaving in what her boss considered an appropriate manner. Her work was rudely interrupted again the following Saturday, though, when Lucius returned to watch her dance a second time. And the week after that. And several more following that, each time propositioning her following a private dance.

Hermione considered telling her boss Malfoy was manhandling her in order to have him banned, but he always tipped better than any other patron and she doubted her boss cared much for her safety anyway if it interfered with profits. Each visit she felt her resolve weakening, though. Maybe it was his eyes, so intense and so determined to get what they wanted or the entrancing way he would run his hands over her in the private rooms. Perhaps it was the low timbre of his voice, always daring her to concede to his wishes.

Whatever it was, after two months she agreed. Her body was decorated in a little green number that Lucius found particularly alluring, especially with the addition of her black stilettos accented by silver heels.

"Just say yes, Miss Granger. My patience is enduring, however I'd prefer not drawing out the inevitable."

She was straddling his hips as the words left his lips, his fingertips resting dangerously high on her thighs. She hadn't been with a man in months and here was an admittedly gorgeous one courting her in his own twisted way, but the implications held her to reality.

"Do you actually realize who I am?" She asked, removing herself from Malfoy's lap as her annoyance bubbled to the surface. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm the mudblood rival of your son. I'm the little muggleborn who helped eradicate the darkest wizard of our time. I'm a witch who gave up everything and now all I've got is a job at a strip club and an escalating pill problem. What can you possibly want with me?"

Lucius made no verbal reply, but rose to his feet to stand before the witch. Her emotions had left her skin flushed and eyes narrowed, but in one swift motion, his lips were on hers. They were strong on her, but not forceful and she found herself responding despite all logical reasoning. As he pulled away from her, she felt suspended in time.

"Just say yes," He breathed into her ear, inches away from her. She inhaled him, a pervasive scent of patchouli and bergamot that seemed to envelope her entire being. Leaning into him she felt the firmness of his chest and simply breathed.

Then she said yes.

* * *

So that's the first chapter. Brownie points if you catch the lyrics thinly disguised in it. Also, for anyone who's reading Beer & Chocolate, I did mention this may be released before the next chapter, but hopefully I'll have something up soon for that as well. Also, reviews would be lovely, I'm really unsure about this piece. Cheers.


	2. Chapter 2 -- Breathe

Malfoy Manor stood regal and intimidating as ever it had been before Hermione Granger. After the club closed, she had joined the wizard outside, her flatmate giving her a reproachful look as she left with the man. She wanted to change her mind, to pretend he was just a dream, but beside her he felt so vital, so alive with magic that seemed to draw her in. Down an alley some blocks away, his hand had found it's way to the small of her back and his lips met hers once again. When he pulled away, he had kept his hand on her back and she suddenly felt the uncomfortable squeeze of apparition.

He led her through imposing front doors, which opened at his approach, and she obliged him, but froze when they reached the foyer. She waited for it to come - the vast ocean of emotions waiting to drown her, to punish her for her audacity to enter this house again. They did not come.

Lucius guided her up an ornately wrought staircase and down one of the wings. The magnitude and elegance of his manor were overwhelming; surely she had never previously been in a position to appreciate it. Exquisite paintings, both enchanted and traditional, lined the halls punctuated by grand sculptures. Hermione almost felt as though she were in the midst of a museum tour instead of roaming someone's personal home. Towards the end of the hall, they came to a stop before intricate mahogany doors.

"These will be your rooms." Lucius gestured her into a grand suite, but did not cross the threshold himself. Instead he leaned leisurely in the door frame, arms folded across his chest, as the young witch explored the room. Everything was immaculate, and she quickly fell in love with the art nouveau style it was decorated in. The attached bathroom did not disappoint. When her eyes finally came to rest back on him she found his body language strangely casual.

"And you? Where do you sleep?" Hermione asked while removing her heels.

"My quarters are in the west wing."

"I see."

"You almost sound disappointed, Miss Granger. Consider it presumptuous if you must, but I thought it likely you'd desire rooms furthest from my own."

"I see." Lucius' eyes narrowed at her lack of elaboration, but he didn't reprimand her.

"Would you care to see where I rest?"

"Yes."

The wizard preceded her to the opposite end of his manor. Emotions began to inundate her, not due to the acts that had taken place there years ago during the war, but because of how unsure she was of what was expected of her now. By accepting his offer, what had she bound herself to? Resolutely, she decided she could always leave and that he had no means to force her to stay.

At the other end of Malfoy Manor, Hermione found herself in Lucius' bedroom. She was initially rendered speechless by the stark contrast with the rest of the manor. She had expected him to have a more Victorian room the product of centuries of Malfoy patriarchs or even comparable to some of the darker wizard dwellings she had seen in books, but was instead met with a tastefully modern design.

"I assumed you would have a very...traditional bedroom," Hermione voiced as she ran her fingers along the clean black lines of his dresser.

"I did, but the antiquity began to feel stale. After my divorce, I refurnished the whole room and relocated the pieces I kept to guest bedrooms."

"I see," The witch murmured as she continued her slow pacing around the room. She found the design admirable, but also felt a certain coldness exuded by the harsh angularity that reflected the owner astutely. Eventually she came to a stop before him. "Exactly what are you expecting from me, Malfoy? Visiting me week after week, asking me here, what for?"

"Does it matter? Perhaps I don't provide a satisfactory answer, then what?"

"Why do you have to be so evasive?"

"Because you came here under no one's decision but your own. Clearly my reasons and expectations aren't relevant in your choice."

"I could just go back, you know." Lucius let out a small chuckle, a deep, breathy sound that startled Hermione with the humanity of it.

"Really? You'd choose parading around half-naked in front of new men every night, crass muggle men, over me and what I have the means to provide? Over the magic you so inadvertently inherited?"

"It's always possible, I have nothing keeping me here. Do not believe for a moment that your money can buy me."

"Oh, but it already has, my dear." Lucius closed the distance between them and brought her into a fervent kiss, but Hermione quickly pulled away.

"I'm not yours. I'm not a trophy or a possession for your collection." The edges of Lucius lips pulled up ever so slightly as he responded.

"Perhaps. You may go now, Miss Granger."

"No."

"Refusing my dismissal? Not your wisest choice."

"You brought me here, but you don't get to simply dismiss me at will." Hermione glared at him, unsure of what she was doing, but certain that she shouldn't comply with his every whim, despite the compulsion she felt to do so upon entering his house. He seemed to be studying her with muted curiosity.

"So...you wish to stay here...interesting. Tell me, how do you think of me?"

Hermione was puzzled by his question and the general back and forth of their conversation. It was late, likely approaching four, and he was asking her opinion of him, the one thing he should be well aware of without her verbalizing it. Then she noticed him remove his blazer to reveal a tailored white button up.

"Well, Miss Granger?" He inquired as he unbuttoned his cuffs. His steely eyes glanced briefly from his task and she finally responded.

"You're a privileged, arrogant bloodline purist who was lucky to be born into old money. You have little regard for anybody other than yourself and seem to pledge allegiance to the darkest groups imaginable, provided there's something in it for you with minimal risk involved. In your favour, you are an exceptionally talented wizard, but that does little to balance your appalling actions or unsubstantiated prejudices."

"A shrewd observation if rather negative. Now the real question is, if none of your closest friends managed to bring you back to this world, why return for someone you've fixed such harsh judgement upon?" Lucius had begun unbuttoning his shirt and Hermione found it difficult to reply immediately.

"I haven't returned per se. You found me, but no one else knows if I'm even still alive."

"You've missed the point of the question. Regardless, your sentiment sounds...liberating." Lucius removed his shirt and Hermione couldn't help admiring the sculpted chest she was staring at. He took the necessary steps to close the distance between them before continuing. "You know, there's a few other things I find to be rather liberating."

"Malfoy..."

"You've been dancing for me for weeks. You're in my house and wished to see my bedroom. You agreed to come here, do you really want to deny me or do you just enjoy the chase?"

She said nothing and suddenly his lips were on her neck as he unzipped her jacket. Deft hands quickly slid the garment off and her jeans soon followed. He took a small step back to appreciate the outfit she had been wearing for work. She was in an emerald green and he found the colour particularly alluring on her. For the first time, her hands began exploring him entirely, gliding over the taut muscles of his chest.

"You're already hard," She murmured when her hand grazed over his groin. He let out a small laugh.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to fuck you tonight."

"And why is that?"

"Because you don't want it yet...but you will."

"What if I said did?" Hermione gasped as the wizard picked her up and tossed her onto his bed. The scent of him on his sheets was intoxicating and only magnified when the man himself crawled on top of her. She felt his cock hard against her thigh and his hand came up to grab her breast. She could barely breathe as his eyes bored into her.

"I recommend you do not play with me, mudblood." She stared at him defiantly, but said nothing. Instead, she brought a hand up to cup the sizeable bulge in his trousers. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally and he murmured a spell under his breath, leaving her bare under his fingers.

His right hand swiftly headed south and Hermione arched into him when he reached his destination. His thumb began rubbing the flesh where her thighs met then Hermione felt the pleasure of a finger slipped inside her, stroking perfectly. The witch groaned and Lucius smirked before moving down to her breasts and taking a hard nipple between his lips. He sucked and nibbled while adding another finger inside her and all she could do is moan in response. His ministrations were impeccable as he moved to her other breast and his fingers kept drawing out her pleasure.

"You are so wet for me," He groaned as he released a nipple. She could feel her climax nearing and knew he could read it on her face, his eyes never leaving hers. "Come for me, witch, I want to see you come." His fingers rubbed over the little nub between her thighs with just enough pressure and it was though fireworks went off in her body. Every muscle in her body felt on fire with pleasure and for a moment she forgot who she was and who she was with, simply revelling in the sensations from her body.

When she came down from her high, Malfoy lay staring at her, still only half-naked. Slowly she reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist in protest.

"Not tonight," He voiced as he relinquished his grip.

"You asked me here, why don't you want me?"

"Listen to me: Not tonight. Now go to sleep." He whispered a spell that submerged the room in darkness. Hermione turned away from the wizard, bemused by his actions, and was further startled when she felt him move closer and drape an arm over her. She didn't know what she was doing, but in that moment she didn't care and drifted off to sleep.

It was the height of self-destruction, waking up in Lucius Malfoy's bed. Never mind the booze or the pills or the line of work she had found herself in, Hermione could not imagine anything worse than waking up next to a Death Eater. She had been so ambivalent with him; she hated him and everything he stood for, but felt enamoured with how forbidden, how explicitly wrong being with him was. Then there were the feelings she had towards herself - how she had already played the good girl during the war and now she revelled in doing whatever she wanted, but how getting involved with Lucius Malfoy ended up being part of that she did not know. All she knew was she seemed to be making a trail of progressively stupider decisions.

The sun was just rising as she delicately extracted herself from the wizard's sheets. She had only slept a few hours at most, but couldn't bear to stay. Wordlessly, she got dressed, and before Lucius awoke, Hermione had apparated herself back to London. Then, standing in the alley outside her flat, she retched violently, sickened by the man whose hands she let roam her body, sickened by this person who slept with the man who would've killed her if given the chance just a few years ago.

She managed to make it to her room without waking Rhea and she thanked God for little blessings. The momentary bliss was quickly extinguished as she remembered the reality that was her life. She was back in muggle London, no better and certainly much worse than before, and she still took her clothes off for strangers to make ends meet. This was her life now and after her encounter with Lucius Malfoy, she definitely wasn't ready to change.

Taking a couple of her Norco pills chased with a healthy glass of wine, Hermione savoured the numbness spreading through her body. The thoughts of Malfoy ebbed and she closed her eyes, willing the thoughts to vanish entirely. She lay on her bed as early morning light danced across her form. Then she stopped breathing.

* * *

I assure you, this most certainly is not the end. Thank you all so much for the reviews, they really are quite encouraging. Cheers.


	3. Chapter 3 -- Brogue

He sat leaning slightly forward, his hands braced on the silver snake atop his cane with level eyes trained on her. She kept blinking at the ceiling, hoping to force her life back into focus, for her to remember where she was and what had happened. He was in muggle attire aside from his walking stick, furthering her confusion, and when she rolled over to face him properly, she felt the slight pull of an IV needle taped into her arm.

"Were you actually trying to kill yourself, having failed spectacularly, or are you just magnificently stupid?"

She did not reply, her eyes slowly drifting to the other person in the room. A petite raven-haired girl had dozed off on a chair in the corner. Slowly, Hermione tried to piece together under what circumstances Lucius Malfoy and Rhea Hansen would be in the same place.

"Where am I?" Hermione asked, surprising herself with raspiness of her voice.

"I believe it is called a hospital. It seems to be where they take melodramatic girls with an unfulfilled death wish." Lucius glared at her as he spoke, but for the life of her she couldn't figure why he was so upset with her.

"Why are you here?"

"I feel...a sense of responsibility for your stupidity."

"So what? Why do you care? What's a dead mudblood between friends, right?"

"Perhaps under normal circumstances I would agree; however, you've created quite the mess for me, what, with your little stunt taking place when I was the last person you were seen with and no one actually witnessing your arrival at your residence. Your vexatious friend here seems to think I had something to do with this mishap, so tell me, were you truly trying to kill yourself?"

"Of course not."

"Then what were you trying to do?" Hermione thought briefly, recalling glimpses of time before the total darkness. Eventually she concluded enough.

"A glass of wine and Norcos is nothing for me, but I think I had a different dose this time, different pill, laced with something, I don't know. I just wanted to make it stop."

"Norcos?" The blond inquired with raised eyebrows.

"They're muggle pain relievers. Strong ones. Doctors prescribe them for injuries and surgeries and such, but they're good for all sorts of pain."

"Pain relievers and alcohol. Even wizards know better than to indulge in that combination."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, fuck off, yeah?"

At her words, Rhea stirred in the corner. Stretching as she opened her eyes, she quickly scrambled to her feet when she realized Hermione had regained consciousness.

"Hermione! Oh God, Hermione!" Before the witch knew what happened, she was being embraced tightly by slim arms. Past black hair, she saw Lucius' expression had not changed in the least. Rhea pulled back slightly, face full of concern. "I was so worried! I got up for my run and went to check if you'd come home and you were blue. I was so, so scared you weren't going to make it. What in the world happened?"

"I'm sorry, truthfully. You know those pills I take for migraines? I had taken a few, but forgot and had something to drink."

Her flatmate didn't look entirely convinced and chanced a glance over her shoulder at Malfoy.

"Why's he here?"

"Couldn't tell you. I'd already left his, he didn't come home with me."

"Rhea, is it?" The woman turned with no effort to hide the contempt etched in her features. "While I'm sure the two of you would be so enthralling to watch as you discuss me as though I am not present, would you excuse Hermione and I a moment so that I may then be on my way?" Rhea frowned at his condescension and looked back at Hermione for confirmation.

"It's fine, it'll only be a minute." She smiled in what she hoped was a pacifying way and Rhea looked back at the blond once more.

"Alright," She conceded and rised from her perch on the bed. "I'll be just outside, should probably let a nurse know you're awake." Her blue eyes shot one more formidable glare in Lucius' direction before she left the room.

"I feel the need to make myself plain," He began. "I do not wake up alone unless it's of my own volition."

"Sounds solipsistic."

"And you, Miss Granger, are turning out to be quite...troublesome."

"Sounds inconvenient."

"You were to stay with me, I could have made your life easier, transitioned you back into magical Britain. However, suicide attempts and drug overdoses aren't my cup of tea."

"Sounds unfortunate."

Lucius stared at her for several moments. His face was inscrutable and eventually he rose from his chair. As he reached for the door handle, the brunette called for him.

"Lucius, why me?"

"Because I thought there was something left of a once talented witch, something other than a drug addict. For once it seems as though I were mistaken."

A few weeks had went by with little change. Upon her release from the hospital, Hermione returned to her job and drinking. Lucius appeared to have given up his fascination with her and somehow this seemed relevant to her as she waited in the cold for her dealer. It was a Tuesday, one of her nights off, and she found herself in an industrial part of the city with wind whipping her hair about her face.

"It's been awhile, kid."

Kyran's brogue cut sharply through the silence. She had not heard his approach, and felt a sense of relief when her eyes landed on him. He was a slim twenty-something with features reminiscent of Old Hollywood. Perhaps in another time, a different place, she and him would've been young university graduates moving in together with the world at their feet. Perhaps they would've eventually wed and later had children. But that was not their world and neither his occupation nor her drug addiction were conducive to such fairytale endings.

"Hello, Kyran."

"You know, they call addicts like you chippers. On and off, yeah?"

"Right. Maybe I'm just not an addict," She offered in an attempt to be light-hearted.

"Honey, in your case, I really wish it were true. Keep going the way you are and it won't be long 'fore you're six feet under."

"Do me a favour: No more American colloquialisms." He laughed at her comment.

"Seriously, kid, where you been? It's been weeks."

"Do you have this much dialogue with all your clients?" He sighed and ran a hand through his sandy hair.

"Alright, babe, what'll it be?"

"The usual."

"I'm all out." She took a steadying breath. This was only the second time he had ever lacked what she needed.

"Alright, alright. Umm...pain relievers, what else do you have?"

"Just got a bit of Dilaudid, it's pretty strong."

"We both know I'm not shooting anything. I don't have a death wish."

"Could've fooled me." Hermione froze, staring doe-eyed over Kyran's shoulder at the man who had stepped out of the cover of shadows. Kyran quickly wheeled around to face the voice.

"Hey man, this is a private conversation. I suggest you have yourself a good night, yeah?"

"I have no interest in you, muggle."

"Hey man, what did you call me?" Hermione finally found her voice and placed a calming hand on Kyran's shoulder.

"It's quite alright, Kyran. Don't," She commanded, having noticed his hand inching toward his sidearm. "Lucius, what are you doing here?"

The wizard's eyes drifted from her face to the man her fingers clung to. Kyran stayed quiet, looking between the two of them.

"Lucius?"

"I...I don't even know." He chuckled mirthlessly.

"Give me a minute then." She said then turned back to Kyran. "Any Lortab?" She whispered in his ear.

"Are you crazy?" He shot back through gritted teeth. "Who the fuck is this bloke?"

"It doesn't matter, have you got it?"

"Hey Hermione, I ain't going to jail over this."

"Shh, it'll all be fine. Nobody's going to jail. Have you got it?" He nodded, but kept his sights set on the man a few metres away.

"Yeah, I got about thirty of the tens."

Hermione's hand moved to her purse. Lucius had made no more comment and remained mute as she palmed the cash in her hand before withdrawing it from her bag. Just out of his view she slipped several bills into Kyran's back pocket.

"It's," She began, but was quickly cut off.

"I know how much it is. I know you're good for it. Listen, you sure you want to leave with this guy?"

"It's fine, I've known him a very long time."

Kyran reached into his jacket and Hermione was aware he was using the same tactic to give her the drugs. He brought her into a hug and as he released her, quickly palmed a baggie into her hand. She slipped them discretely into her pocket furthest from Lucius, for what reason, she was unsure as she was well aware he knew exactly what she was doing.

"You call me later and let me know you're alright. Be safe, kid."

She smiled ruefully and turned away from the young man. Slowly, she approached Lucius, suddenly becoming aware of the algid weather as she tightened her jacket around her. When she glanced over her shoulder, Kyran had gone. As she strolled over to the blond, a wry smirk graced her lips.

"You do not give up easily, Mr. Malfoy."

"That should be of no surprise to you."

"Hmm," The witch voiced as the two began walking towards civilization.

"Why the show? I know exactly what you were doing."

"He wouldn't have given it to me otherwise...or maybe I just like playing pretend."

"And you almost dying? That did nothing to change things?" He asked, his words tinged with genuine curiosity.

"Clearly it didn't for you despite your words at the hospital. You seem to be well practised at locating a girl who doesn't wish to be found." She stopped then and faced the man. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to take all the drugs I bought? I'll just get more. Even if you show up and keep me from buying off Kyran, it's not like I work in an industry that makes getting pills difficult." Lucius remained mute for awhile as the couple walked the city streets.

"To start...I'm going to take you to dinner."

Hermione stared at him. His persistence surprised and perplexed her and she questioned why she even considered his offer. But...on that cold Tuesday night, she obliged him just the same.

* * *

Sorry I've been MIA. I've been rather uninspired. Hopefully I'll come up with lovely ideas to write soon. Cheers.


	4. Chapter 4 -- Bourbon

Hermione watched with idle interest as Lucius drained the remnants of his second bourbon while she squeezed the lime wedge above her third vodka soda. Dinner had only met the most rudimentary qualifications - eating and drinking, very minimal conversation. Where was a girl to begin with the man who had just watched her make a drug deal? Somehow they had made it to a posh muggle bar following the meal where the real conversation began.

"Why did you leave?" Hermione took a long sip of her drink before responding.

"That's a stupid question," She replied, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Why?" He repeated.

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness."

"What might be left to say in time come after death?" The smallest smirk lifted the left side of Lucius' mouth as he watched Hermione's surprise. "Yes, Miss Granger, I too am familiar with Howl; however, your representation of Ginsberg feels melodramatic at best."

"I couldn't...anymore. I just couldn't."

"And now?" He asked, his grey eyes never straying from her face.

"I don't know." She sighed, downing the rest of her drink. "Why do you care? How does any of this concern you?"

"Perhaps for one evening you could suspend your worst expectations of my character?"

"And why exactly would I do that? Feels a bit naïve, doesn't it?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that you don't actually know me? Sure, we met a few times while you were in school with Draco, but-"

"No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to dismiss me. Need I remind you I was held hostage in your home?"

"So was I, essentially."

"Oh please, what Voldemort did to you doesn't begin to compare to what I went thorough, and furthermore, your involvement with him was voluntary."

"I almost lost my son," He muttered through gritted teeth.

"Your sister-in-law tried her hand at the Cruciatus Curse on me!" Hermione replied, her voice not raised but laced with urgency. "In your cellar! You watched innocent people murdered. You signed up for that, never did you lift a finger for those who didn't."

"And sacrifice my own family? The lives of my wife and child? My own? You are mistaken if you think I'd put anyone else's interests before my own."

"Well," She spoke softly, eyes staring into her glass as she stirred the ice with her straw. "You all survived, didn't you? Too bad I can't say the same about a lot of people I cared for. That is why I left."

Hermione observed his silence, watched as he got hold of a cocktail waitress and ordered another round. He addressed her once their drinks arrived.

"Am I responsible for this?" He asked, more to his glass than the woman before him. "For the drugs, the lifestyle..." She found his furrowed brow uncharacteristic as he trailed off, but felt no pity for him.

"I'm sure anything to happen to me as an indirect result of your actions is among your lesser offences."

"That is not untrue, but it does nothing to invalidate my actions. I am sorry." Hermione could barely believe her ears. She doubted a Malfoy had ever apologized for anything in their privileged life.

"Surely you're not making amends?"

"I've lost a lot of things, many of which I will never be able to get back. I am not a new man, nor shall I pretend to be one, but I can attempt some reparations."

For a moment, Hermione glimpsed an expression she had never seen on Lucius' face. It was so unfamiliar that she couldn't determine the exact nature of it, but a second later it was gone. In the pause, she reached for her pills. The wizard watched her critically, eyes following her fingers and listening as she asked the nearest server for a glass of water.

"In the middle of a lounge?"

"It's a pill perk, Malfoy, everyone just assumes it's an aspirin."

"I am not familiar with that term," He spoke coolly. "Still, are you so anxious to repeat recent events?"

"Oh, it's just one. You know, for a Death Eater, you're awfully captious. I'd say who would expect you lot to be so judgemental, but, well..." She trailed off, accepting the water from their server graciously.

"Is it so bad to have a conversation with me?"

"No," She replied and for a minute, Lucius thought she had changed her mind. Then she quickly downed the pill. "It's just bad being me."

They again remained mute several minutes, Hermione settling into a slight euphoric haze while Lucius eyed her over his drink. Her eyes drifted to the other patrons. She was underdressed, but it wouldn't be the first time. It seemed like a hotspot for married men to meet their mistresses, so sure they wouldn't be caught that they hadn't bothered to hide their wedding rings or their company's lack thereof.

"So where do we go from here?" She eventually asked, noting the cocktail waitresses telling their tables it was last call.

"My previous offer stands, Miss Granger, the only stipulation being no drugs. Feel free to down the whole liquor cabinet, though, Narcissa surely did."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason? Don't you find it degrading?"

"My choice of work is not the question, Malfoy, I am asking why. There's nothing you despise more than those of my provenience. Why?"

"Consider it a reparation."

Hermione rolled her eyes and downed her remaining alcohol. She stood, staring hard at the man before her. He expected her to walk and wasn't sure if he would stop her, but again, she surprised him. She slid the pills across the table then folded her arms.

"Let's go then."

* * *

Three weeks had passed at Malfoy Manor. Hermione had no desire to be dependent upon a man, and certainly not this man, but she had been positively gleeful as she watched her supervisor's face when she tendered her resignation. Her absence had been harder to explain to Rhea, but she continued to pay rent and told her it was just for now, not a long-term change. Her presence had gone unpromulgated in the wizarding world, confining herself to the estate, but she felt no boredom. Malfoy would be gone all of the morning and much of the afternoon most days, attending to whatever business affairs garnered him profit. She was still unclear on what it was he actually did aside from be independently wealthy, aware that he periodically stopped by the Ministry but was far from an employee. She occasionally pondered what he was up to while he was out, her solitude punctuated by the house elf's appearance at meal times.

Being at Malfoy Manor had been unusual. Hermione wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't quite what she got. There had not been so much as a kiss on the cheek since she returned. It almost felt like he simply wanted another human presence in the house. She did find his conversation intellectually stimulating when they stayed off personal topics, however. He was nothing if not a challenge.

Most of her time had been spent in the library. It was an impressive room spanning two floors of the manor, surely holding thousands of books, several of which she had identified as the only remaining copies. It was whilst reading one of these texts, an opus of esoteric ruins, when a voice sounding through the halls sharply caught her attention. It was not like Malfoy to announce himself in his own home, nor did the voice match his. She deftly laid down her book and soundlessly approached the door. It had been left slightly ajar, allowing the sound of footsteps drift in.

"Father?"

"Shit," Hermione mumbled to herself, hearing Draco Malfoy draw closer to the library.

"Father?" He called again, a bit louder. "Mother told me you had collected that clock of hers from Borgin and Burkes. Care to spare just a moment from banging your mistress?" When no reply came, he summoned the house elf. "Avey, where is my father?"

"Master is out on business. Master no tell Avey where he goes."

"Do you know if he has my mother's clock?"

"Avey is not familiar, Avey does not know."

"Right, great use you lot are. Tell me, is anyone else here? I thought I smelled perfume in the great room." Hermione's breath hitched, waiting to be outed by the house elf. Surely he would not dare deceive Draco.

"No sir, no one but Avey."

Hermione waited and eventually heard Draco's receding steps. A few moments later came the barely audible sound of a closing door, and with it, Hermione's release of breath. As she stepped out into the hallway, Avey approached her.

"Sir Draco has gone, Miss."

"You lied to him. Thank you, but you lied to him. I thought house elves couldn't?"

"Sir Draco is not Avey's master, he does not live here. Avey serve the family that lives here, Avey serve Master Malfoy. Master Malfoy wish your presence not be divulged."

She smiled to herself, leave it to Lucius to be one step ahead, forbidding the house elf from mentioning her presence even to his own family. Still, she was unable to focus on her book when she returned to the library. What if Draco had spotted her? It would be bad enough for her friends, if she could still call them that, to discover she had returned to Lucius before anyone, but for Draco to be the one to expose her? She sighed, closing the book and leaving it on the table beside the chaise. Perhaps a walk around the property would clear her head.

She started with the mansion itself although she was familiar with most of it. She avoided the drawing room, which she felt sure was locked anyway, instead perusing the study, the sitting room, the great room, the parlour, multiple guest bedrooms, and even stumbling on what she thought was likely to be Draco's former bedroom. She visited Lucius' quarters, a room she hadn't returned to since the first night, but found it locked. The kitchen was immaculate and hardly lived in, as was the spa she found adjacent to the sauna. On the grounds, she discovered the estate had no distinct end, at least not one she could see. A forest, lake, and gardens all appeared to be part of the estate in addition to the pristine lawn.

"Are the grounds to your satisfaction?" Hermione grabbed her chest, startled by the sudden voice at her ear. She had lost herself in the undisturbed beauty laid out before her. She looked at Lucius, face as unreadable as ever. She turned back to the lake some metres away before responding.

"Your land, the estate, it's..." She trailed off, unable to name a word that seemed adequate.

"Yes, it is all rather exceptional."

The pair stared into the lake a short time, the setting sun casting an orange glow upon its surface. A cool breeze was blowing in, but Hermione remained still on the bank.

"My elf has informed me that my son turned up unannounced this afternoon," The wizard voiced with indifference. "I have been assured you two did not speak."

"No, I remained in the library. I was lucky, I overheard him saying he could smell my perfume."

Lucius glanced at her then returned his gaze to the setting sun. "It was a ruse, there is no clock as he spoke of. My wife has been using Draco to prove I was unfaithful during our marriage and he's too enamoured with his mother to bother to notice."

"Were you?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. His eyes flickered coldly on her.

"If she must look, she need look a little closer to home." He turned back toward the manor and offered his arm. "Come, dinner shall be ready soon." His swift change of subject told her the matter was closed, but she couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting back to it as they made their way across the property. What did he mean that she should look closer to home? What did it even matter if they were already divorced as Lucius informed her that they were? Why did he still call her his wife? Moreover, why did Hermione care about any of it?

Dinner was a quiet event. Lucius seemed distracted, which looked odd on his face. Hermione attempted conversation a few times, but received nothing more than one syllable answers. During dessert he seemed to return to the meal.

"I have a request." Hermione laid down her fork, pushing away the remainder of her raspberry tart.

"Yes?"

"I think it would behove you to announce your return, at the very least to your friends. Too easily Draco could've taken control from you today."

"You're presuming I plan to stay."

"Have you other intentions, Miss Granger? Perhaps returning to that tiny flat with the uncouth barmaid? Going back to taking your clothes off for a living? Admirable work, truly." Hermione glared at the man across from her.

"There is more to life than the wealth you surround yourself in-"

"Like drugs?" Hermione felt the heat rise in her cheeks as her anger flared. Roughly pushing herself up from the table, she made to leave the room, but couldn't resist one more question.

"Do you think you're better than me?" Lucius rose and closed the distance between them before he spoke.

"In wealth, in refinement, in class, in blood."

"So then what in the bloody hell do you want with me?" She shouted, a few errant sparks shooting from her fingertips as magic surged through her.

"There has never been something I wanted that I couldn't have," He spoke lowly, his eyes narrowed as he leaned toward her, his breath hot on her ear. "And you are no different."

* * *

So it's been five months. My apologies as the last three stories I wrote were all for Criminal Minds. Hopefully, I'll be writing more soon. As always, reviews are appreciated. Cheers.


End file.
